1 Year: The Assassins
by arrows and bites
Summary: When they're at work, they're agents Barton and Romanoff, Hawkeye and Black Widow, Strike Team Delta; outside of work they're Clint and Natasha, the assassins. Now as Clint and Natasha, they've hit their first year together - and they're going to celebrate it in their own assassin ways. Clintasha, Strike Team Delta, Pre-Avengers.


_When they're at work, they're Hawkeye and Black Widow. Outside of work, they're Clint and Natasha; they've hit their 1 year mark since the rundown in Bangkok, and they're celebrating in their own, assassin ways. _

_Clintasha, Strike Team Delta, Pre-Avengers _

_I don't have an authentic Russian-speaking peer as a translator so I used Google Translate, sorry if it's wrong. Enjoy!_

* * *

Clint glanced at the clock as it beeped, the time announcing a new day. It was November 1st, and that meant that it was officially one year since the infamous assassins Hawkeye and Black Widow had crossed the line from being partners to lovers in Bangkok. To him, it was still so different, so fresh. From the moment he'd been injured on that mission, they'd become 'Clint and Natasha', not 'Barton and Romanoff'.

Love was for children, and it wasn't wrong. But if it meant being with someone like Natasha, who always knew him, understood, and even shared the burden of pain he'd carried for 21 years on his own, he was willing to be a child again.

He tilted his head to the left, where Natasha was asleep. This woman, what had he done before her? It was quite amusing to see the changes Natasha had brought into his life; she was _everything_ and more to him. A montage of memories flew through his head, from their first encounter in Paris, to the life-changing mission in Bangkok, _Budapest_, and more. Smiling, Clint slid out from the bed and silently stepped out of the room, heading towards the training room.

* * *

"So, one year?" Coulson asked, ducking a right jab.

"Yeah, it's been quite a journey," Clint replied easily as he blocked Phil's left hook and used the moment to land 2 hits to his handler's ribs.

A comfortable silence took place, and the only sound that could be heard was Coulson's harsh, ragged breathing.

10 minutes into the 4th match, Clint faked and struck out with his palm towards Phil's sternum as he took advantage of that second to swipe Phil's legs out from under him and pressed his heel into his handler's shoulder blades. Clint smirked as his handler grunted. Phil did give him a nice workout, but it was nowhere close to how he and Natasha trained.

"You getting tired already?" Clint laughed as he helped Phil up to his feet. Unlike his handler, he wasn't even breathing hard; he'd chosen to spar with Coulson only because Natasha was still asleep - probably awake by now.

As if on cue, Natasha strolled into the training room, smiling at Phil and Clint.

"Morning, guys." she gave a soft smile, a smile that was only saved for the three of them.

"Nat," Clint called out, "get in here! Old man can't keep up with me anymore!"

Phil gave an exasperated glare at Clint, then stepped out from the sparring mats. "Be my guest," he faked a bow to Natasha, earning a playful punch.

* * *

Phil was always amazed by his agents; every time he thought he knew all about them, they'd reveal a new secret that only the two of them knew. When Clint and Natasha had grown "intimate" with one another, he'd become slightly jealous of Natasha. But it was understandable - no one, not even him, was able to keep Clint the Clint he knew. Natasha, however, was equally broken and dark like him, and they tended to rely on each other for all their insecurities and demons. It took him exactly 2 months until he finally began to accept the truth of his agents and have an appreciative mindset for Natasha.

What managed to amazed him more was the fact that Clint seemed... happy. Sure, it wasn't like he wasn't happy with him, but Natasha had made Clint not only deadlier and stronger than before but taught him happiness as well. And for that, he'd always be thankful for Natasha.

"...hil! Phil, let's go get breakfast!"

He looked up to find Clint motioning for him to head to the mess hall. Clint's eyes flashed - only temporarily - with concern and curiosity, but Phil shrugged and gave him a look that it wasn't anything bad. Understanding passed over Clint's eyes, and the three of them started down the hallways to the mess hall.

* * *

As Natasha settled down next to Clint with her food, she asked, "So are there any important things that we should be aware of today, Phil?"

"Well, considering that it's your guys' first year, I asked in for a special favor a few months back," Phil answered. On March, he had asked for the techs to create a private training room, a bigger parkour course, a bigger shooting range, and amplified weapons, just for their little group.

"Oh, it's that thing, isn't it?" Clint asked knowingly. As Phil grinned in confirmation, he turned to Natasha and went on, "Tasha, you're going to love it! Phil's been planning this since forever, it's going to be _awesome!"_

_"_I'm looking forward to it, Phil." Natasha smiled at Phil, then turned to Clint, "I have a group of recruits to eval. Want to come?"

"Speaking of which, I have a meeting with Hill and Fury soon, so I'll see you guys later. Don't put too many recruits into the infirmary!" Phil gave an appointed glare at Clint as he went out of the mess hall.

Natasha chuckled and flicked a bit of her oatmeal at Clint, who gave a sideways glare and bumped into her in response, leaving them in a fit of laughter. "счастливого года, наташа." _Happy one year, Natasha. _Clint whispered. The Russian words gave Natasha a fuzzy feeling in her stomach. This man, why was he so... _Clint_? How did he deal with all her bullshit and not even show the slightest hints of fear? What had she done to deserve such kindness and love? She and her hawk, never quite whole as individuals, but strong and whole when together. She had her own fair share of demons, but Clint was so special in his own ways that sometimes he terrified her while other times he was her main source of happiness and security - although it was mostly happiness and security. Yet he was always by her side, and she'd always be thankful for him.

"счастливого года, Клинт," _Happy one year, Clint,_ She immediately whispered back, "и спасибо, мой ястреб" _and thank you, my hawk._

"я люблю тебя, мой паук." _I love you, my spider._ Clint smiled and spoke with such fervor. He squeezed her shoulder affectionately, letting her know that he meant everything he'd said.

* * *

Recruits were probably one of the most irritating types of people around their work. Evaluating the recruits? Even worse.

"Jones, hustle!" Clint heard Natasha yell. The recruits had been running for 10 laps and every single one of them seemed tired. He smirked as he saw his partner glare menacingly at the group of people who were lacking, making their faces go pale and sprinting to catch up with the rest of them. His face quickly was masked with an emotionless profile as he caught the looks of annoyances the recruits threw at Natasha behind her back.

Even despite all the ones who still hated her and went against her, that was his partner, the one and only Black Widow. They were _the_ Hawkeye and Black Widow, the most infamous assassins in the world; Strike Team Delta, only the _most _successful and deadly strike team SHIELD chose to make - Hawkeye's distance shots, Black Widow's manipulation, and Agent Coulson's strategic planning was one of the main points that made Strike Team Delta the team they were today. Clint was proud of Natasha, he really was. From being a cold, emotionless assassin, she'd come out to become one of SHIELD's greatest operatives and even more, the most understanding, amazing person Clint'd ever met in his life.

Maybe it was because today was their one year anniversary, maybe that was why all his thoughts kept on drifting back to her - even though his thoughts _always_ held Natasha as his first priority. Nevertheless, he was happy; they'd managed to be children for a whole year. Hopefully, everything would stay like that even in the future.

* * *

"Alright recruits, we're going to do some sparring - elimination rounds. I want clean, nonlethal matches, no dirty playing. Good luck!" Natasha instructed.

A hand shot up in the group and she huffed a breath of annoyance. "Yes?"

"Who are you, exactly?" the recruit asked. Was that a slight tone of disbelief? But she couldn't blame them; she hadn't introduced herself as _the Black Widow_ in the first place anyway.

"Agent Romanoff, your evaluation supervisor for the day." she knew she wasn't answering them to the fullest extent but she liked the anonymity - not to mention, she was a _covert operative_ after all.

"And uh, are you even qualified to teach us?" another recruit questioned.

She saw Clint's face darken from the corner of her eye. Smirking, she shot back at the recruit, "Why don't I make you a deal, then. Winner of the elimination rounds gets to go against the agent on the sidelines - he'll explain who _we_ are, whether you guys like it or not."

Uneasy looks were shared around but were quickly replaced with arrogance and curiosity.

"First up, Becker and Lettera."

* * *

If there was anything that bored her out of her mind, it was watching the amateur recruits spar. The only time she considered evaluations "fun" was when Clint was doing it, not her. So far, with only 1 round left, Alvarez was on the lead. She had to admit, between all the stupid recruits knocking themselves on their asses, all she wanted was some quality time with Clint and Phil. She looked up just in time to see Alvarez beat down the last competitor and look at her in triumph. That idiot, he didn't know what was coming.

"BARTON!" Natasha turned around and yelled across the field. She saw Clint divert his attention towards her and gave that little smirk she knew and adored endearingly. He was already jogging to her as she turned again to face the recruits, who were all basically dying in boredom.

"This is agent Barton, and he will be the one to show you what _actual sparring_ looks like, not to mention that he'll tell you who we are." Natasha gave a little predatorial smirk.

"You made a bet? That _I_ would spar with the winner? Romanoff, are you sure? If I remember correctly -" Clint's rhetorical questions were cut off when Alvarez suddenly spoke.

"Are you scared?" the recruit asked; his chin was jutted up in defiance and arrogance.

Oh, that kid didn't even know what was coming. Her partner was the world's greatest marksman, master assassin Hawkeye. He was by far _the most_ terrifying man she'd ever met in her life; while she had a past full of torture and mysteries, Clint had a past she'd admit being worse than her own sometimes. The biggest mistake she'd ever done in her life, however, was probably underestimating Clint Barton - from the day she witnessed Clint get tortured in front of her and _not even make a sound_ in Bangkok, or just a simple grunt when she'd shot him in her safe house in Paris, or when either she or Coulson was injured, Clint was terrifying. He had more scars on his body than her, and that was saying something. She knew he hated himself for the days he were a contract assassin, killing over 300 hundred people in just a year, for being too weak when there were other ways to survive, and because the darkness that was always stirring beneath his stoic expressions were clawing at him to give in - he had, once. It'd been the worst few months of her life; Clint'd been on a mission that had required him to let his darkness consume him, but she never knew _how dark and painful_ it was. She still wondered sometimes if that mission had truly shown the fullest extent of the cold-blooded assassin Hawkeye, or just a portion. Next to her, she saw Clint put on a dark smirk - the medics had to be warned, she guessed.

* * *

"Are you scared?" the recruit asked. His chin was jutted up with an ass load of defiance and arrogance.

Clint smirked darkly. He was the master assassin Hawkeye, after all. Idiots like this kid were far from concern; frankly, he was quite worried that he'd hurt this recruit a little _too _much, seeing that he was one of the fuckers who were annoyed at Natasha from the 10 laps.

"Why don't we get started." He blew past the recruit's taunting question and walked right into the sparring field. Then he smirked wickedly, "Romanoff, hope you called medic."

* * *

He sized up Alvarez and analyzed him quickly in his head. He had to admit, the kid was fit; about 5'6", in his early twenties? That seemed about right. Now, _this_ was going to be fun.

In front of him, he saw Alvarez swallowed thickly in nervousness. Even better. He knew the kid was contemplating on whether or not he should lash out first, so he made the choice for him. Clint feigned a jab to the recruit's abdomens and rather somersaulted forwards and knocked the kid's legs out from under him. Then he waited because this wasn't Natasha or Phil, this was a recruit, who wanted to see what true sparring looked like. Alvarez stood up again and lashed out with a right hook, which Clint took ahold of the arm and twisted, using the momentum to do an aerial and scissored his ankles around Alvarez's neck, squeezing down on his throat and making him land on the ground - hard. But the recruit didn't know when to stop, did he? So Clint let him come with the right hook again and sidestepped out of his reach. Alvarez let out a frustrated grunt - just what he wanted to happen.

Clint went into a half cartwheel and scissored his legs around Alvarez's chest, bending his body backward and slamming him down to the ground with his knee firmly digging into the recruit's chest. Alvarez gasped and coughed out, trying to breathe from the impact. Clint leaned into Alvarez and said, "Your evaluation supervisor is the Black Widow. She knows how to kill you without you even knowing that she was ever there in the first place. Taunting, mocking, or angering her? Not a good idea, kid." He then stood up to face the group, "She is _the Black Widow_, recruits. I don't want any bullshit against her, and if there are, I'll personally hunt you down."

He turned to face Alvarez, who was seething in defiance.

"YOU CHEATED, _BARTON_." Alvarez was practically spitting fire at him. Clint remained completely calm and undeterred, which he knew was to annoy the recruit even more. Natasha called him nasty stuff in Russian, what else could he ever be bothered with?

"Alvarez, I would shut the fuck up if I were you," Natasha interrupted, clearly irritated. She gave a menacing glare at the recruits and continued, "since you're facing the world's greatest marksman, master assassin, SHIELD's _best_ covert operative, Hawkeye. He knows how to kill people in many creative ways, even more than me. Now get the hell out of my sight because eval is over, go on recruits!" The group hurried away, Alvarez sprinting away in the front.

"Well, Romanoff, I suppose we have some celebration to do?" Clint bumped his shoulder into Natasha.

"Let's get on to it, Barton!" Natasha chuckled.

* * *

"Where have you guys been?" Phil asked.

"Eval. Tash needed me to give them a proper introduction about who we are." Clint deviously smirked. Natasha snorted a laugh beside him.

Phil smiled at his agents naturally laughing and smiling. He was really proud of how far they'd come - from the day Clint brought Natasha into SHIELD from Paris to the day he finally realized that Clint was happy, and so was Natasha.

"So I have a 'little' surprise for you guys," Phil began, catching his agents' attentions quickly. "and Clint found out about it sooner than I wanted him to, so technically it's a surprise for Natasha, but anyway, it's a -"

"Phil, why don't you just show us?" Natasha cut him off. He gave them a confused look, clearly not understanding how he sounded.

"You were blabbering, non-stop." Clint simply pointed out with a knowing look. Oh.

"Then I guess we should just head right into it!" Phil entered his security code in, opening the doors to reveal large ranges for shooting and parkour, a set of new weapons, and a training room with gym equipment. He beamed when he saw Natasha's face brighten up, along with Clint's eyes widening. "Happy one year, guys. Now, why don't I go look for some food and you guys have some fun? I'll see you guys later." He sincerely spoke. As he walked out of the private training room, a unison of voices floated back.

"Thank you, Phil."

* * *

Clint dragged Natasha to the armory, clearly entranced by the amplified condition of their weapons. "Holy shit, Tasha look at this Makarov! It's literally a piece of art," he was basically drooling over the weapons, but so was Natasha.

"I think this is the best surprise I've ever gotten in my life..." Natasha whispered, caressing a Desert Eagle.

"Oh, speaking of surprises, I got something for you!" Clint excitedly told Natasha, who was eyeing him with curiosity. Carefully, he took out a silver chain from his pocket to reveal a necklace with an arrow hanging. "When you miss me." He simply stated.

He grinned as Natasha took the necklace from his hand and admire it. He'd bought it when Fury had sent him on an easy surveillance mission; he knew she was missing him. The necklace, he had to admit, was perfect. His spider, ever the killer she was, sure did love accessories - they were effective in manipulation, too. "Happy one year, мой паук." He softly spoke. _Happy one year, my spider._

"Wow, Clint... спасибо, мой ястреб." Natasha replied back with the same fervor. _Thank you, my hawk._

"Now, why don't we have some fun?" Clint smirked.

* * *

Phil watched as he saw Clint pull off a spectacular move against Natasha. They fell in a tangle of limbs, laughing. He smiled as he saw them talk quietly and look back at him with eyes of gratitude. Yes, his agents were the greatest assassins ever to exist, but they were still children at heart - and he was sure damn proud of them. Strike Team Delta had been predicted to be a monstrosity, but they'd beat the odds. And now here they were, celebrating one year. Maybe, just maybe, he could pull off many more years - hell, he wouldn't mind an eternity - with his agents.

* * *

Clint hooked his arm around Natasha's left leg and made her roll with the momentum, making her lose her balance. He then flipped her over by her legs and put her down with his other arm pressing down on her torso and the hooked arm threatening to dislocate her knee. He let out a laugh as she tried to escape his hold but failing. Finally, she tapped twice on his arm and he released, still laughing. Natasha began to laugh along, and they just laid on the floor, talking quietly.

"Я люблю тебя," Clint whispered. _I love you._

"счастливого года, мой ястреб." Natasha spoke back. _Happy one year, my hawk_.

"ты мое все, и не забывай это." He brushed some hair away from her face and placed his hand on the edge of her jaw. _You're my everything, and don't you forget that._

"мы будем детьми навсегда. все вместе." Natasha replied, leaning into his hand. _We'll be children forever. Together._

Simultaneously, they looked back at their handler, who was smiling at them. It'd only been 2 years since Strike Team Delta had officially been taken into the rotation but here they were, as a small family.

And Clint knew, that no matter what stood in their way, they'd always be Clint and Natasha, Barton and Romanoff, Hawkeye and Black Widow, and Strike Team Delta. Besides, it was only the first year; they'd be children through all their hardships because they were the assassins, after all.

* * *

_Yayy! It's the first story! It was so much fun for me when I was writing this bc I mean, it's Clintasha! Hope you guys liked this story as much as I did bc now I gotta go work on my second story: "The Youngest and The Greatest"_

_Hope you guys enjoyed :) make sure to leave a review bc I love some good reviews!_


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